


Allure

by RaphaelsDaughter



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alluded HobbitxCreature Interest, Canon Divergence - Inside Information, Gen, Intellectual Confrontation, M/M, Other, Pre-Slash, Smauglock, The Hobbit (There and Back Again) Bookverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaphaelsDaughter/pseuds/RaphaelsDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo sneaks into Smaug’s lair at the behest of the dwarves and finds himself ensnared by the fire drake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Allure

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t adjust anything having to do with Bilbo and Smaug’s characters or dialogue, but I was writing as them, not as John and Sherlock. When I heard the casting decisions for The Hobbit I just couldn’t resist this character exploration – I just couldn’t help but think that this scene is such an accurate depiction of the truth of their relationship in the show: Sherlock being an unearthly, ethereal creature with unfathomable intelligence; John who is ordinary but skilled, and possesses attributes like courage and willpower, upstanding morals and yet a tolerance for all that Sherlock is and so endears him to him.Italics are passages from the chapter 'Inside Information' in _The Hobbit (There and Back Again),_ by J.R.R. Tolkein.

_**“Nothing can escape Smaug once he sees it.”** _  


* * *

With the remains of their supplies in the narrow tunnel, huddled dejectedly with the other thirteen pressed close, Bilbo huffed in exasperation at the dwarves’ inability to form a plan in regards to the demise of the fire-born creature – that which was undoubtedly returning at once to his lair, their sole exit now that the end leading out to the ragged cliff face had been purposefully destroyed. Ferocious and powerful Smaug may be, but as this hobbit had once already been able to appropriate a treasure from his hoard he felt a swell of confidence, and justified condescension unto the dwarves in his company. After all, though his skills had been doubted and he thought to be an unwelcome addition to their number, it seemed that he had been performing the most action so to benefit the group and further Thorin on this confounded journey of his.

He propped his fists upon his hips and commanded attention with his exasperated tone, proclaiming, _"Now, I will make you an offer. I have got my ring and will creep down this very noon – then, if ever, Smaug ought to be napping – and see what he is up to. Perhaps something will turn up. 'Every worm has his weak spot,' as my father used to say, though I am sure it was not from personal experience."_

 _Naturally,_ having no definite plan, _the dwarves accepted the offer eagerly. Already they had come to respect little Bilbo – he had become the real leader in their adventure, as he had begun to have ideas and plans of his own. When midday came he got ready for another journey down into the Mountain. He did not like it, of course, but it was not so bad now he knew, more or less, what was in front of him. Had he known more about dragons and their wily ways, he might have been more frightened and less hopeful of catching this one napping again._

_The sun was shining when he started, but it was as dark as night in the tunnel. The light from the door, almost closed, soon faded as he went down. So silent was his going that smoke on a gentle wind could hardly have surpassed it, and he was inclined to feel a bit proud of himself as he drew near the lower door. There was only the very faintest glow to be seen. ‘Old Smaug is weary and asleep,’ he thought. ‘He can't see me and he won't hear me – cheer up, Bilbo!’_

_He had forgotten, or had never heard, about dragons’ sense of smell._

_It is also an awkward fact that they keep half an eye open watching while they sleep, if they are suspicious. Smaug certainly looked fast asleep, almost dead and dark, the shadows draping over the hard scarlet scales coating his back as he lay atop a pile of glimmering golden coins._ His head rested on the tanned flesh of his inner arm, sharp curved horns looming over his dark curls of hair _as he rested with scarcely a snore more than a whiff of unseen steam, Bilbo peeping once more from the entrance. He was just about to step out onto the floor when he caught a sudden thin and piercing ray of_ a blue iris _from under the drooped lid of Smaug's right eye. He was only pretending to sleep – he was watching the tunnel entrance! Hurriedly Bilbo stepped back and blessed the luck of his ring._

Smaug abandoned his charade at the sound of Bilbo’s hastily aborted movement, propping himself up on one elbow to the result of a fraction of the precariously piled treasure to tumble downwards with a series of clattering chimes. He frowned as his gaze briefly lingered on the fallen trinkets before his piercing eyes affixed on the general area where Bilbo stood.

 _Then Smaug spoke, "Well, thief, I smell you and I feel your air – I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!"_ He held out his arm so to gesture to the mounds of fortune he had amassed, his colossal crimson wings unfurling from where they had been held loosely against his shoulder blades and mimicking the action.

_But Bilbo was not quite so unlearned in dragon-lore as all that, and if Smaug hoped to get him to come nearer so easily he was disappointed. "No, thank you, O Smaug the Tremendous!" he replied. "I did not come for presents. I only wished to have a look at you and see if you were truly as great as tales say. I did not believe them."_

_"Do you now?" said he,_ his long tail aimlessly rolling and waving at the flattery _even though he did not believe a word of it._

_"Truly songs and tales fall utterly short of the reality, O Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities," replied Bilbo._

_“You have nice manners for a thief and a liar," admitted Smaug. "You seem familiar with my name, but I don't seem to remember smelling you before. Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?"_

_"You may indeed! I come from under the hill, and under hills and over hills my paths led – and through the air! I am he that walks unseen."_

_"So I can well believe,"_ he confessed, for even his superior stare could not discern his exact location, _"but that is hardly your usual name."_

_"I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number."_

_"Lovely titles!" sneered Smaug. "But lucky numbers don't always come off."_

_"I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them to draw them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me."_

_"These don't sound so creditable," he scoffed._

_"I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ring-winner, Luck-wearer, and I am Barrel-rider," went on Bilbo, beginning to be pleased with his riddling._

_"That's better!" said Smaug,_ entertained. In amusement, he advised, _"But don't let your imagination run away with you!"_

 _This, of course, is the way to talk to dragons, if you don't want to reveal your proper name (which is wise), and don't want to infuriate them by a flat refusal (which is also very wise). No dragon can resist the fascination of riddling talk and of wasting time trying to understand it._ The fire-breather inwardly chuckled in wickedness at the answers he gleaned in regards to the overall plot. _‘I thought so last night,’ he smiled to himself. ‘Lake-men, this is some nasty scheme of those miserable tub-trading Lake-men, or I'm a lizard. I haven't been down that way for an age and an age; I will soon alter that!’_

_"Very well, O Barrel-rider!" he said aloud. "Maybe Barrel was your pony's name, maybe not – though it was fat enough. You may walk unseen, but you did not walk all the way. Let me tell you I ate six ponies last night and I shall catch and eat all the others before long. In return for the excellent meal I will give you one piece of advice for your good: don't have more to do with dwarves than you can help!"_

_"Dwarves!" said Bilbo in pretended surprise._

_"Don't speak that way to me!"_ he cajoled, shaking a clawed finger in Bilbo’s direction as he smirked, stretching leisurely. _"I know the smell (and taste) of dwarf – no one better. Don't tell me that I can eat a dwarf-ridden pony and not know it! You'll come to a bad end, if you go with such friends, Thief Barrel-rider. I don't mind if you go back and tell them so from me."_

 _But he did not tell Bilbo that there was one smell he could not make out at all: hobbit-smell. It was quite outside his experience and puzzled him._ ‘There’s always something,’ he thought with a gleam in his eye, intrigued.

 _"I suppose you got a fair price for that cup last night?"_ he mused, feigning interest in the grooming of the claws on one hand. After a second of silence he prompted with an arrogant show of teeth and fangs, _"Come now, did you? Nothing at all? Well, that's just like them. And I suppose they are skulking outside, and your job is to do all the dangerous work and get what you can when I'm not looking – for them? And you will get a fair share? Don't you believe it!_ If I let you off alive it will not be attributed to any skill or luck of yours, to be sure."

 _Bilbo was now beginning to feel really uncomfortable. Whenever Smaug's roving eyes, seeking for him in the shadows, flashed across him, he trembled, and an unaccountable desire seized hold of him to rush out and reveal himself and tell all the truth. In fact, he was in grievous danger of coming under the dragon-spell –_ but what use was admittance when the creature had already deduced what was of importance? Plucking up courage he corrected weakly, _"Not gold alone brought us hither."_

_"Aha! You admit the 'us'," laughed Smaug. "Why not say 'us fourteen' and be done with it, Mr. Lucky Number? I am pleased to hear that you had other business in these parts besides my gold. In that case, you may, perhaps, not altogether waste your time._

_"I don't know if it has occurred to you that, even if you could steal the gold bit by bit – a matter of a hundred years or so – you could not get it very far? Not much use on the mountain-side? Not much use in the forest? Bless me! Had you never thought of the catch? A fourteenth share, I suppose, or something like it, those were the terms, eh? But what about delivery? What about cartage? What about armed guards and tolls?" And Smaug laughed aloud. He had a wicked and a wily heart, and he knew his guesses were not far out, though he suspected that the Lake-men were at the back of the plans, and that most of the plunder was meant to stop there in the town by the shore that in his young days had been called Esgaroth._

_Poor Bilbo was really very taken aback. So far all his thoughts and energies had been concentrated on getting to the Mountain and finding the entrance. He had never bothered to wonder how the treasure was to be removed, certainly never how any part of it that might fall to his share was to be brought back all the way to Bag-End Under-Hill. Now a nasty suspicion began to grow in his mind – had the dwarves forgotten this important point too, or were they laughing in their sleeves at him all the time? That is the effect that dragon-talk has on the inexperienced. Bilbo of course ought to have been on his guard, but Smaug had rather an overwhelming personality._

_"I tell you," the young hobbit said, in an effort to remain loyal to his friends and to keep his end up, "that gold was only an afterthought with us. We came over hill and under hill, by wave and win, for Revenge. Surely, O Smaug the Unassessably Wealthy, you must realize that your success has made you some bitter enemies?"_

_Then Smaug really did laugh – a devastating sound which shook Bilbo to the floor, while far up in the tunnel the dwarves huddled together and imagined that the hobbit had come to a sudden and a nasty end. "Revenge?" he snorted,_ his large wings riffling and fanning out in skepticism of the mere thought as _the light of his eyes lit the hall from floor to ceiling like lightning. "Revenge! The King under the Mountain is dead and where are his kin that dare seek revenge? Girion, Lord of Dale, is dead, and I have eaten his people like a wolf among sheep, and where are his sons' sons that dare approach me? I kill where I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong – strong!_

 _“Thief in the Shadows," he gloated, "My armour is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!"_ He chortled deep in his throat as he breathed a dual plume of smoke from his nostrils in show, forked tongue flicking out to savour the diminutive being’s alarm.

 _"I have always understood," said Bilbo in a frightened squeak, "that dragons were softer underneath, especially in the region of the – er – chest;_ you have much bare skin on display yourself, _though doubtless one so fortified has thought of that."_

 _The creature stopped short in his boasting,_ levering himself up in intrigue. In the midst of the clash of coinage from the move he gently flapped his wide wings once with barely the sound of a fall evening breeze even underneath the concealing clamour. Bilbo had unfortunately been turned slightly away from him and had his eyes affixed on the floor, inwardly scolding himself for trying to coax a weakness so obviously from a creature so wise, and as such did not see that Smaug had leapt down from his spot above.

"Your information is antiquated," he responded softly, the tenor of his voice echoing in the seemingly limitless chamber as he stalked the aisles through the mounds of treasure, drawing nearer to where Bilbo squatted, "I am armoured above and below with iron scales and hard gems. From a distance it is quite impossible to harm the shown skin on my slight and swift limbs, and no blade has ever moved close enough to try and pierce me.”

_"I might have guessed it," said Bilbo. "Truly, there can nowhere be found the equal of Lord Smaug the Impenetrable. What magnificence to possess a waistcoat of fine diamonds!"_

_"Yes, it is rare and wonderful, indeed," said Smaug, absurdly pleased._ The rumble of his low voice reverberated through Bilbo’s shoulder, and the poor hobbit threw himself to the floor at the start; for Smaug had crept to his side while he had been speaking and now grabbed at empty space where once he had stood. With a click of his tongue the creature frowned slightly even as his blue eyes shined in triumph, turning from where Bilbo was frozen in shock for but a moment to reel a wing and fist back to slam into the stone above the small tunnel. Fissures cracked through the mineral and brought crumbled pieces of stone to the floor to pile in front of the entrance to the horrified shouts of the dwarves.

Smaug turned back to where the hobbit’s scent trailed with a victorious leer, urging, “Come, come now! You must realize you are in a precarious position indeed! There is no advantage for you to continue to hide when it is only by the gracious thought of mine that you’ll be freed.” Bilbo thought this to be quite true as he stared up in dread at he who stood towering over the area where he lay. The ring he wore did not seem quite so useful now, for though Smaug’s sharp gaze roamed from above his right shoulder to his left and back again he still knew his whereabouts precisely.

With a steady exhale to gather his wits Bilbo grudgingly slipped off his ring in an effort to not upset him, the piece of jewellery popped into his back pocket so to go unseen. For not only would the golden item fit right in with the heaps upon heaps of other golden and valuable trinkets, but the magic of invisibility would undoubtedly be coveted by this already powerful creature – and Bilbo did not want to think of what tragedies would consequently follow.

Smaug tilted his head at the abrupt appearance of the being, his blue eyes able to finally pinpoint his location. Brown eyes stared up at him defiantly as the male cautiously climbed to his feet, his mettle surprising for one so small – and he was indeed tiny, slimmer than a dwarf though he stood at the same height as one. He smiled encouragingly and continued with their previous conversation, gesturing to his torso and prompting, _"Look! What do you say to that?"_ with the haughty attitude of one that is proud of his defenses as well as one who has cornered another and expects only the one response he knows he has forced the other to reply with.

 _"Dazzlingly marvellous! Perfect! Flawless! Staggering!" exclaimed Bilbo,_ and he did not need to fake the response even though flattery was the only option he had in order to not be eaten right away. For in addition to the curved horns atop Smaug’s dark curls, his keen eyes and pointed teeth, the thick scales observed covering his back, the wickedly barbed tail and overwhelming wingspan, there were also gems and jewels encrusting the skin of his chest. Evidently due to the duration of his lying upon his array of treasures they had adhered to him, bits of gold, ruby, emerald, sapphire, and diamond shining from their places upon his torso.

Truly there was scarcely any skin left bare, what with scales coating the ridges of bone at his collar, over his shoulders and down his arms. His powerful legs were covered as well, his scales climbing from the tops of his dexterous feet to his shins, over his knees and thighs and under the short trousers made of leather that wrapped around his legs, creeping up along the higher ridges of his pelvic bone. Across his chest as well hung the remains of another bit of leather, the edges of the cut jewels having sheared most of the tough material. And Bilbo had to admit to himself that it seemed unlikely that this creature could ever be defeated – or even harmed – by any mere object.

 _"Well, I really must not detain Your Magnificence any longer," he said_ hopefully, stepping back nonchalantly and trying to look about for a manageable exit without losing the fantastical creature from his field of vision, _"or keep you from much needed rest. Ponies take some catching, I believe, after a long start."_

Smaug smirked and conceded the point with a nod, but he leaned forwards at Bilbo’s movement away, coaxing, “I wouldn’t want you to leave yet – how about you answer a few harmless questions for me, to curb my… curiosity?”

He gulped and warily granted, “Alright then.” _He had been feeling rather pleased with the cleverness of his conversation with Smaug, but_ this turnaround and being cornered _at the end of it all shook him into better sense._ His thoughts also lingered on the hesitance before ‘curiosity’, thinking that perhaps Smaug might have wanted to say ‘appetite’ instead. ‘You’re going to be eaten for sure,’ he mused to himself. ‘You got yourself into this mess – _never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo you fool!’_

“So glad you agree,” Smaug said, circling the hobbit. “I will start with the question that leapt to my mind when I first caught your scent: what sort of creature are you? That you come from under hill, you gave as one clue. Another is that you grow to be so small – could you be something related to dwarf-kind? Are they the key?”

“I don’t believe I come from dwarf stock, however our size and fondness for the underground might suggest. I am a hobbit, a halfling – more similar to the race of men, if I were to draw a comparison. Size is the only difference between our bodies, though they tend to wage wars and run off from their homes needlessly, which we of course do not,” Bilbo explained, rather caught up in his description.

“Is that so?” he asked, wondering, “Why then are you so very far from your home? Surely you were not forced to tag along – it seems odd that they would seek you out to join as they roam! Do your people specialize in some craft that is useful, or are you an enemy of their foe?”

Bilbo snorted in response to that, becoming quite a bit more comfortable as he talked and reflected on the people of his homeland – to Smaug’s benefit. “Not useful at all – we’re a peaceful folk. We’ve no weapons or forges, no skill in battle, for sure. We farm and eat and we’re sociable, holing up where we are and staying there! I should never have come on this confusticated adventure!” And that was the truth, he believed. The trials he had worked through thus far seemed worth it for the thrill, but now that he faced the reality of being at the mercy of this formidable creature he regretted ever leaving his hobbit-hole.

With that trail of thought, he regained his senses as to the danger posed, thinking to himself, ‘Why are you letting your tongue wag loose, you bumbler! Pay attention to the play between you!’ For though there was not much hope at all of escape, he should still be aiming for that to be the goal. Providing the answers Smaug sought was all well and good, but he needed to watch his words and be sure to keep him entertained. He might be able to coax him into allowing him to live, with that plan.

His hand strayed to the sheath at his hip when he realized with a start that Smaug had come around to stand in front of him again, bent at the waist and crouched slightly so to lean forward and peer into his eyes. Smaug was inclined to believe his explanation, not only because of the careless way he had been speaking before but because he had never seen nor heard of a hobbit or halfling in his many years of travel. It made sense to him that they were isolated in some distant area, not implored to form alliances with others because they were not particularly skilled. His wings and tail twitched as he smiled at the outcast that had crept into his den and stared calculatingly back at him.

Smaug proclaimed in interest, “But you did choose to go along with it! That is fascinating – for if your people are not interested in wandering, taking risks so to gain anything, what motivated you?”

“The thought of something new, I suppose. A change, and look where it’s led me!”

He hummed and affirmed, “Yes, look at where you are – in my lair surrounded by riches and reason. Do you value experience so little that your death is seen as worth more than this vision?” He did not allow for the hobbit to answer, instead pondering aloud, “There is one part of you that I find conflicts with your story, halfling. You can walk unseen – this is one aspect that I find riling.

“If all of you had this then your people would be of legend, you cannot hide your homes, after all. Unless you can? As a spell to be cast over yourself and objects, no matter how tall.

“Else it would be only you, which is why you were chosen for this. But then surely you would have explored many places with the thought that you would not be harmed. Yet this is your first threat of death, for when I finally had you I could taste that you were alarmed. If this is the case, why before were you not restless?”

Trying to avoid the topic as best he could, Bilbo answered, “It is my power alone, as you have guessed,” to ensure that he did not seek out any unsuspecting hobbits. “It’s because that was how everyone behaved, I suppose. But when this adventure was brought up I couldn’t deny the Tookish blood in my veins, and the skill was put to great use – against the simpler foes we ran into before.

“Amazing, that your thoughts are so spot on – what need of you for me here at all?”

Smaug chuckled at the flattery and continued, “Tookish? Is that of a type of people or animal?”

“A branch of my ancestors – inspiring foolhardy behaviour, I’ll say.”

“But you’ve welcomed this attitude, to follow dwarves out and about with no surety of livelihood. You are drawn to something – new beings, creatures, places. Or maybe danger, threat?” he mused with a smirk. “How good.”

Bilbo cleared his throat. “A bit not good, I should think.”

“And what is this?” he inquired, relieving the short blade from its place at his side. “It’s of elven make – not to question how you came upon it would be remiss.”

“It was stumbled over in a troll cave, unbelievably.” His stomach sank at the sight of his sole weapon held in Smaug’s claws. He should not have let himself hope that the sword would pass unnoticed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you yet – I’ve many more questions for you. I’ve not done much since I took this kingdom, and you are interesting and new,” he informed.

_‘You aren't nearly through this adventure yet,’ Bilbo thought, and that was pretty true as well._


End file.
